A Ray of Hope
by PrincessDaydream77
Summary: After the death of his father-in-law, Marius Pontmercy was distraught, the events of the barricade still fresh in his mind. But a ray of hope was brought to him, in the child his dear friend Eponine had left behind. This is the story of Marielle Jondrette.
1. A Part of 'Ponine

A Ray of Hope

Summary: After the death of his father-in-law, Marius Pontmercy was distraught, the events of the barricade still fresh in his mind. But a ray of hope was brought to him, in the child his dear friend Éponine had left behind. This is the story of Marielle Jondrette.

Disclaimer: I only own Marielle, and a couple of other OCs. Everything else belongs to Hugo, Schonberg and Hooper.

Chapter One

Rain pattered outside the window of the Café Musain, as Marius Pontmercy glanced unseeingly through the glass. He had done much the same since the fateful night at the barricades, and had seen no one. After all, he had no one left to see, bar Cosette, who was still in mourning for her beloved father, who had passed not three days since, and was just as distant as he was himself.

Feeling he could no longer procrastinate, the young man pulled a folded piece of parchment from his jacket pocket, taking in the rain-smudged ink on the front of it, from which he could just about make out the name 'Marius'. In truth, he had been afraid of opening it ever since it had been gifted to him, but now felt that he could ignore it no longer, considering the fate of its writer.

With a final heaving sigh, Marius pulled the candle wax seal apart and slowly unfolded the rough piece of paper, finding the ink inside miraculously untouched. Breathing deeply to slow his heavy heart, the man began to read.

_My dearest Marius,  
If I have given this letter to you, then I am now with God, for on this page is written my last confession.  
I have in no way led a perfect life, barely one that could be called good, but some of those mistakes were decisions made for me.  
My life of crime was not mine to choose, my skill at it shaming me daily, but it was my parents' choice to make. I was born a Thénardier, and that was how I lived. However, there was one choice I made completely for myself, one that I perhaps should not have done.  
You may not remember entirely, but a few months ago, not long before Cosette, you had a passing fancy for the baker's daughter, Dominique. You became near obsessed, only for a day or two, but that was enough for me to give in to despair. I sat outside the baker's shop that night, listening to you laugh with her, until her brother, Clement, came to take me inside by the fire. We talked while you laughed, and I was truly happy. I felt loved. That was the beginning of my mistake.  
You see, just a fortnight later, they left for the countryside. Your fancy passed and my heart was broken. Once the tears had dried, I wanted to move on with my life, but I could not. It was already too late.  
I tried to tell you about her, but you were never listening. I talked to my parents, but they did not even care. I even ran away to the country to try and find the Charbonneau's new bakery, but it was hopeless. I had no one, no one but her.  
Now that I am dead and gone, I need someone to care for her. I would never allow her to go to an orphanage, nor to a stranger, not after the servitude I saw Cosette endure in my childhood. I need to leave her with someone that I can trust to love and care for her as I would have wished to do myself. That is why I shall entrust my daughter's life to you.  
Her name is Marielle, and she is hidden in the chapel of the old abandoned church at the edge of the city. There is an old woman who lives nearby that feeds her for me, but she needs a parent's love. I am sure that you will care for her, as you have done for me those years gone by.  
It only remains to say that if you come to love her just a fraction of the amount that I love her, and that I loved you, then she will be the luckiest girl in all of Paris.  
To Marielle, I leave two things. The first is my locket, the one that I was gifted by my own mother as a baby. The second, the letter that is in her Moses basket. Give it to her when she is old enough to understand. It says everything that I could not say to her.  
I wish you both all the luck in the world,  
All my love,  
Éponine Adrienne Thenardier._

Marius stared at the page long after its message had been read, his gaze so intense that the words twisted and turned before his eyes, which were steadily blurring with the tears he had back since Éponine took the bullet.

The words had stung his heart as he read them over again, mostly because they had rung true. He had not been there for the young girl, instead chasing Cosette while she suffered in silence, and that hurt him more than any wound could, knowing that he had unwittingly abandoned her in her hour of need.

And a child. Marius could scarcely believe that his 'Ponine had a daughter of her own, when she was still really a child herself. Another fault of his own. A poor, innocent babe who had no choice as to how she came into the world, nor to the fate of she who gave her birth, nor even to her own. But Marius did have that choice, and the answer barely had to be considered.

Writing a brief note to Cosette, explaining that he had gone on an urgent errand and that he would soon return, which he fastened between the gates of their home on Rue Plumet, Marius then bolted for the nearby stables and within moments was on his way.

Little over an hour later, Marius slowed his steed to a halt, taking the reins in hand and tying them securely to the wooden lych-gate of the churchyard he had been searching for, before dismounting and beginning to walk towards the chapel, in such a daze that he could hardly put one foot in front of the other.

Being an only child, Marius had never cared for a baby before, and he felt just as much fear as he had on the barricades. What if he wasn't good enough? To him, this child was not just a baby; she was a part of 'Ponine. The only part he had left.

Upon reaching the cobweb covered chapel door, Marius began to panic, his heartbeat echoing loudly in his eardrums. What if the door was locked? What if the old woman was there? What if she refused to let him take her? So many scenarios occurred to him that he almost collapsed with relief when the door opened to reveal an empty bar the large altar at the far end of it.

His breathing not slowed, Marius made his way towards the cloth covered table and behind it. Nothing. Once again, Marius began to panic. She had been taken. Who had taken her? Had it been the old woman? Or someone else? What had they done to her?

Suddenly, an almost inaudible whimper broke through the cacophony of worries in his mind, silencing them all at once. As it was repeated, the student bent down to the flagstone floor, pulling aside the cloth of the table to come face to face with the source of the sound.

Right before his fatigued eyes, in a hurriedly woven Moses basket, lay a whimpering, brown haired baby. Marielle.

She was thin and frail and extraordinarily tiny when he took her into his arms, the envelope clutched in her left hand making up a large fraction of her weight, but he was hardly surprised. Éponine had always been a slight girl and, from what little he remembered of Clement Charbonneau, he had been much the same. Even so, she was smaller than any child he had ever seen.

For more than a few moments since reading Éponine's letter, Marius had contemplated taking the child from the church, disregarding Éponine's instruction and handing her over to another, a willing couple with children of their own, or an institution, even to the Foundling Hospital all the way over in London. But the moment her tiny hand had closed around his index finger, any possibility of giving her away drifted from the student's mind.

For it was then that he had discovered that he loved Marielle as his own daughter, as Valjean had loved Cosette. As Thénardier had never loved 'Ponine.

And he would make her proud.

A/N: Review please, so I know how I'm doing!


	2. Marielle Jondrette

Chapter Two

A/N: Thanks to my first reviewers, Eponine Jondrette, Ellshainsby and MariusxEponine3.

When he slowed his steed to a halt at last, Marius could see the beautiful house at Rue Plumet that he had come to call his home since his marriage two days earlier. He was truly relieved to be home to his wife, of course, but was also a little fearful. Cosette did not know of the letter that Éponine had left him, let alone of the sleeping babe cradled blissfully in the crook of his arm. Whether she would agree, he did not know either.

Deciding that procrastination would get him nowhere, Marius led his midnight steed, Tybalt, back to the stable, then began to make his way along the path to the door. He paused to knock, then, considering the inky blackness of the sky, thought better of it, instead awkwardly reaching into the pocket of his slacks and retrieving his key, sliding it silently into the lock and turning it.

Once the door was locked and bolted behind him, Marius padded his way softly up the wooden panels of the staircase, tiptoeing warily past the slightly ajar door of he and Cosette's bedchamber, painfully aware of the faint glow of candlelight coming from within.

He carried on regardless to the room at the top of a small flight of stairs, opening the door and placing the Moses basket inside, kissing Marielle on the forehead before leaving the room.

When he slipped through their bedchamber door, Marius was not surprised to find Cosette sitting up in bed, her arms folded across her chest and her brows raised as crystal eyes met chestnut.

"What was it that was so urgent?" the blonde began calmly, not raising her voice in the least. Marius was not surprised by this. Cosette never raised her voice.

"I had an errand to go on. For a friend." Marius answered simply, giving no more information than that.

"Which friend?" she persisted, her breathing increasing just slightly.

"Éponine." he replied, silencing Cosette at once. He could hear her gasp, even as he turned toward the window, the pain of her death still raw in his heart.

"But… Marius, she's-"

"Dead, I know." Marius interrupted her, not wanting to hear the word fall from anyone's lips but his own. It would make it much too real that way. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he continued. "She left a letter for me, asking me to do something for her. It was important, I didn't want to leave her last wish unaccomplished."

"No, of course." Cosette replied, nodding her head. She was also much calmer now. "What was the wish, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Certainly not. It affects you, after all." Marius admitted to his wife.

"In what way?" she asked him, her curiosity now heightened even further. Marius opened his mouth to answer her, but closed it again, not really knowing what to say. Instead of fumbling for his words, he walked over to the bed, taking Cosette by the hand and pulling her out of it, along the corridor and up a tiny staircase.

As he opened the door, a small cry resounded from inside of it. Cosette frowned, not knowing what on earth was happening.

"Marius, what is that?" she asked, stepping a little further away from the doorway, while her husband stepped further inside, standing above a woven basket of poor quality, one which Cosette was certain had not been there before. Encouraged by the man, she took a few steps into the room, glancing down into the basket.

For a long moment, Cosette stared at the basket with an open mouth, not knowing quite what to make of the child lying asleep in it. She had not expected anything from what Marius had told her, but if she had been, she would never have expected this.

"Who is she?" the blonde breathed, her eyes not leaving the child in question.

"She's Éponine's." Marius explained simply. "She was the urgent errand."

"I can hardly believe it. She was even younger than I am now, to have a child left behind her… it hardly seems believable to me." Cosette stated quietly, pressing her hand to his chest in shock.

"I had no idea. That shows how observant I was. She was my best friend and I never even noticed that she was pregnant. I feel such a fool." Marius responded, just as quietly.

"Where will she go?" Cosette asked, seeing fit to change the subject.

"I am catching the boat to London tomorrow. She'll be safe enough in the Foundling Hospital. At least they'll be able to provide for her. Better than leaving her on the doorstep of the Paris Orphanage. She'd likely be smothered before she got in the door."

"Why would you take her to England?" the woman questioned her husband, choosing the words she would speak very carefully. "Why go to all the effort, when she has a safe, loving home much closer than that?"

Marius could hardly believe what he was hearing, clearing out his throat before asking her. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"If Éponine asked you to take care of her daughter, then we will. It would be betraying her memory to send her away." Upon saying this, Cosette reached down into the basket, gathering the thin blanket around the baby and lifting her into her arms. Though she stirred a little, the child's only reaction was to raise her thumb to her lips.

"She seems to like you." Marius observed.

"I'm seeming to like her more and more each moment." Cosette replied, turning to smile at her husband before returning her gaze to the bundle in her arms. "She's utterly beautiful. Does she have a name?"

"Marielle. That was all that was written on the letter." Marius answered. "I wanted her middle name to be Éponine, of course."

"Of course you would, I think that is only right. But what of her surname? Pontmercy?"

"No. Even though we would raise her, she is 'Ponine's child, and always will be. It wouldn't be right to give her my name."

"Then what? She'd be hated under the name Thénardier. There are no other options." For a long moment after she had spoken, Marius had agreed with his wife. Then he remembered the name Éponine had spoken to him once, when explaining about the letters she had written in her father's name.

"Jondrette. It was the name 'Ponine used to use. No one associates it with the Thénardiers, only with her specifically."

"Very well." Cosette agreed, reaching a finger down to stroke the young girl's cheek. "Welcome to our family, Marielle Éponine Jondrette."

A/N: Not too long between updates, for once. It isn't easy to update 34 stories at around the same time, but I do try my best. The next update could be a couple of months though, so please bear with me and review. The more reviews I get, the quicker I'll update.


	3. Butterfly Tales

Chapter Three

A/N: Thanks to IceQueenForLife, MariusxEponine3 and Eponine Jondrette for reviewing the last chapter.

Five years had passed, and Marielle Éponine Jondrette had grown to become a beautiful and charming young girl.

In Marius' eyes, she was becoming more and more like her mother every day, in her appearance, in her mannerisms, in her voice, in every single way. Cosette could see more of the resemblance in the five year old, as at that age, Éponine was still at Montfermeil with her, although she had disliked the brunette intensely when they were still young, for something that was not her fault and was long since forgiven.

Five years, and still a day had not gone by when Marius had not wished 'Ponine was there to enjoy it with her daughter. He loved Marielle with all his heart, as Cosette did also, and did begrudge a second since he had brought her home, but when all was said and done, she was not his daughter. She was 'Ponine's, and she had barely even had the chance to meet her.

Glancing over to the garden once again, Marius considered the similarities between the girl, who was running round chasing butterflies, and the woman who had given her birth, wincing ever so slightly as he did so. True, five years had passed since 'Ponine had died, but still a knife was plunged into his heart as he thought of his best friend passed. It was a wound that was almost worth the pain, but was still raw nonetheless.

"Papa Marius, Papa Marius, look! It's a butterfly!" the young girl exclaimed, running over to the man sat on the garden bench. She had such a beautiful smile lighting up her face, and was clearly so pleased with herself.

"Oh, my! It is just beautiful, isn't it, _ma bien-aimée_?" Marius stated, gently touching the butterfly's wing, in an attempt to humour the child. "Do you want to keep it, in your bedroom?"

The girl shook her head vigorously, seemingly horrified at the very thought of doing so. "I would love to, really, Papa Marius, but the butterfly would not like it. He would feel trapped, and he wouldn't be happy. I can't keep him." she informed him, still shaking her head, though a little more sadly now.

"Very well." Marius told the girl, the resemblance she had to her mother striking at his heartstrings once again. "Let's let him go free, then. You never know, Marielle, he may come back to you tomorrow."

"I suppose so." the young brunette agreed, raising her hand into the air to release the butterfly, who paused for a moment before flapping its wings and flying away, father and daughter watching it until it was out of sight.

No sooner had the butterfly disappeared than the gate swung open on its hinges, revealing a fatigued looking Cosette, armed with a large paper bag in her hand. Marielle, as she always did, ran forward to greet the woman, wrapping her arms tightly around the woman's waist, giving her a moment to put down the box before she returned the embrace.

"_Bonjour, Belle-Mère _Cosette." the young girl greeted, bobbing a little curtsy to her step mother, to show off that she had learned how to do so properly.

"_Bonjour_, Marielle." the blonde woman responded, smiling down at the tiny girl, before reaching down into the paper back, pulling out a thin, square box bound with black leather. "Look what I have for you, _ma cherie_."

Her curiosity taking over her, Marielle near snatched the box from the woman's hands, carefully yet hastily pulling the lid off of it. She then stopped still, her mouth open in awe as she stared at the contents.

"It's beautiful." she managed to gasp, after a moment. "Oh… _Merci_."

"_Pas du tout_." Cosette responded, brushing off the young girl's stumbling thanks. "Now, why don't you show Papa Marius?"

The young girl did as she was told and skipped across the garden, lifting up the box so that the man could see the beautiful necklace resting on the velvet cushion. It was truly astounding, a single heart cut emerald on a dainty silver chain, flanked with a circle of tiny crystals. It was evidently very expensive, but Marius was not surprised. They had plenty of money and Cosette had always been extravagant with the giving of gifts.

"Happy birthday, Marielle." the woman said, as she sat down beside the two on the steps, pulling the child easily into her lap as she remained in admiration of the letter.

"Papa Marius, would you tell me a story?" the girl asked, her eyelids beginning to droop a little. '_No wonder_.' Marius thought, as he saw the sun begin to set in the sky.

"Of course. Once upon a time…" he began, but the brunette stopped him immediately.

"Not a fairytale. A real story." she demanded, her head falling uncontrollably onto her step mother's shoulder, where the woman began to stroke her slightly curling hair. Marius had to stop to think for a moment, considering what kind of story he could tell. Stories of his childhood were too boring, Cosette's too painful for the young girl to hear, as they spoke in a bad light of the child's mother, and the story of when the two of them had met, though she liked to hear it, had been told far too many a time to be told again.

Then Marius thought of a story he had once been told, all those years ago, by his late father in law. The tune had been beautiful, and had fitted another person he had once known, one that Marielle was certain to be interested in. Taking a deep breath, the man began to sing the tune.

_There lived a girl whose name was Éponine,  
She was the most selfless soul there had ever been,  
Since she was young, she'd no other desire,  
Than to be loved, like every other child._

_Years ago, she gave her life to save the man she loved,  
Who never got the chance to thank enough,  
Marielle, she was the bravest one by far,  
And who she is is who you are,  
The time has come to tell this tale,  
She has not died to no avail._

_Who was she?  
Who was she?_

Marielle took a deep breath, then piped up, her voice carrying strongly through her sadness.

_She was Mama._

A/N: A little depressing, I know, but it needed to be said. All of these lyrics are mine, so that's probably why they're rubbish, but still. I have now updated all of my Les Mis stories, in honour of the DVD coming out tomorrow. I'm so excited! One day more!


	4. The Fear of a Rainstorm

Chapter Four

A/N: Thank you to IceQueenForLife for reviewing the previous chapter.

Above the normal calm of the garden at 55 Rue Plumet, a thunderstorm echoed across all of Paris. The lightning flashed, the thunder crackled and rain cascaded from the heavens, pattering down on the windows with the force of a shower of bullets.

Within the beautiful house, three people lay restless in their beds, unable to sleep for the noise outside their windows. Two of them rested in each other's arms, their heads pounding from a lack of sleep, while the other, the youngest of them all, lay clutching a stuffed bear in her arms, tears seeping from her eyelids as she feared what would happen to her next. After all, in the mind of a five year old child, a thunderstorm was a terrifying thing.

Marielle whimpered loudly as another flash of light appeared outside her bedroom window, followed a dozen moments later by the loudest crash of thunder yet. She clutched on tighter to the bear, which had been affectionately named Jolie Farce by the girl when she had received the gift on her fourth birthday, and buried her face in the fur on the top of its head. She was more fearful than she had ever been, and wanted nothing more than for the storm to pass.

'_Please. Papa Marius, _Belle-Mère_ Cosette, please make it stop.'_ Marielle cried out in her mind, though she knew that such attempts were futile. There was no chance that they would hear her.

Amazingly, as if a miracle had been granted, Marius did seem to hear his adoptive daughter, as he was out of bed and into her bedroom within a matter of moments, providing no end of relief for the girl.

"Papa Marius, I'm scared of the storm." the child admitted, a tear slipping down her face. Momentarily, the man wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest and rubbing her back in an attempt to sooth her worries.

"Marie, there is nothing to be scared of." Marius told her, hoping that the combination of comfort and the use of his pet name for her would manage to persuade her of this. "It is only a storm, and it will pass in time. All we need to do is sit and wait for it to do so."

"Will you wait with me, Papa Marius?" the brunette asked, still clinging to the man's chest. Her quiet voice still carried some notes of fear in it, though not as much as it had done before he had spoken. "I don't want to wait here on my own."

"Don't worry, _ma bien-aimée_." the young man soothed her, stroking the ash coloured waves locks that fell in waves down the girl's back. "I will not leave you for a moment until the storm has passed. I promise you that."

"_Merci_." Marielle replied, though now with more sleep in her tone than fear.

The pair remained there for a few minutes, while the storm quietened down, and when it had finally done so, the man rose from the edge of the bed, kissing the young girl on the forehead before making his way to the door. His hand had hardly brushed against the doorknob when another peal of thunder sounded just outside the window, louder than any before, equalling even the volume of Marielle's fretful scream.

With hardly a second thought, yet also a fatigued sigh, Marius returned to her bedside, resuming the actions he had used to comfort her before. Only this time, it did no good at all. Marielle was beyond consoling with these methods now, and only one thing would really comfort her. A lullaby.

Marius wracked his brain, in an attempt to find a tune that would help the girl to sleep, but he could find none. The songs he had shared with Cosette were sweet, but they did not have the right lyrics to help. The revolutionary tunes he had sung with his friends would not do any good, as they were far more likely to make him break down in tears beside her. There seemed to be nothing else.

But then, from somewhere deep in his memory, another melody came to the forefront of his mind. He could quite grasp where he had heard it before, but it was clear as day to him, as he glanced towards the brunette, that the song would comfort Marielle.

Shifting further across the bed so that he leant against the headboard, Marius pulled the girl into his lap, wrapping his arms around her as she did the same to Jolie Farce, raising her head to look her adoptive father in the eye.

Taking a deep breath, as if to be certain whether or not he knew the tune in question, the man began to sing.

_Don't you fret, my dear Marielle,  
You won't feel any pain,  
A little fall of rain will never hurt you now.  
I'm here, that's all you need to know,  
And I will keep you safe,  
And I will keep you close,  
And rain will make the flowers grow._

When Marius glanced down once again, he saw that Marielle had fallen fast asleep in his arms, still clutching onto the teddy bear she held. '_She must have been exhausted, poor child.'_ the dark haired man thought, stroking a stray curl away from the girl's forehead as he manoeuvred her from his arms, laying her down on the bed and pulling the quilt up around her shoulder.

"Good night, _ma petite_." Marius whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead before leaving the room.

Within a couple of minutes, when the young man had finally settled down into bed, he found that he was the only one in the house that was still awake. Cosette had fallen asleep at some point while he had been in with Marielle, though he did not hold this against her. She had been awake as long as the rest of them, after all.

However, when he closed his eyes, a thought swam in behind them, an image that took over him with both shock and pain. He finally remembered where the song was from, and the thought was hurting him more than he would have expected.

That night, as the thunder and lightning faded into the darkness, Marius cried himself to sleep with the image of his dead friend, 'Ponine, in his mind.

A/N: Please review!


	5. The Secrets of the Garden

Chapter Five

A/N: Thank you to IceQueenForLife, MissFiyerabaMeponine and Eponine Jondrette, my brilliant reviewers.

Another half decade had passed, and, over the beauty of Rue Plumet, a dark shadow dawned with the bright sunshine of June 5th.

Marius was the first to wake in the morning, as he often did by habit, and rose from his bed, eager to get to the first place he wanted to visit early enough to spend some time there before he had to arrive at his job, working for a book-keeper in the centre of the city, as he had done for thirteen years, ever since he was a student that merely needed an additional franc per week to pass his studies more easily.

He did not need the money now, as he had earnt more than enough to keep the three of them in a comfortable condition, something that Cosette's inheritance from her father had also greatly helped with, but still he continued to work in the place, as it offered a little comfort to do so, and reminded him of the life he had once known. He did not truly want to return to that life, as it had been one without either Cosette or Marielle, two girls who gave him unbound joy, but it was nice to be reminded, so that he would not forget where he had come from.

It was that day in particular when Marius had wished that he could recall the people he had once known. Ten years ago to the very day, his friends, just as young as he had been, had raised a barricade on Rue des Billettes. Ten years ago, a seventeen year old Éponine had been the first to fall.

Not a day had passed during which the former student had not thought of his friend, and of the sacrifice that she had made for him. It was impossible not to think of 'Ponine, after all, as his little Marie was a living reminder of the girl he had once known, making him far more protective as an adoptive father than he had ever been as an acquaintance, knowing as he did what had become of the eldest Jondrette girl.

As he always did, Marius locked up the shop as darkness began to fall on the city. Replacing the keys in his back trouser pocket, the dark haired man turned to be on his way. However, contrary to the normal situation of things, he found that he was not alone in the street. Instinctively, he put his hand to his belt, where a knife was tucked away, for his own safety more than anything else, but no sooner had the suspected attacker moved forward than the man realised she was no one to be feared.

"Marie?" he questioned, his voice a little hoarse from the fear he had experienced. A slight nod gave him the answer he needed. "Marie, what are you doing this far away from home at night?"

The girl paused for a moment to consider her words, before answering the question. "It isn't far to Rue Plumet, Papa Marius, only a mile or so, and the sun has not yet even begun to set."

Not wishing to admit to the both of them that the brunette's arguments were valid, the man swiftly attempted to rebuff the responses in an authoritative voice. "Marielle, have you any idea how dangerous it is to wander the streets at night? Particularly for a _bourgeoise_ girl like you."

"I'm no _bourgeoise_ girl!" she exclaimed, an impertinent expression on her face which reminded him instantly of Éponine. "I'm a commoner through and through. The streets are in my blood!"

Suddenly, Marius was reminded of a time when 'Ponine had said precisely the same. She had been sleeping on the streets outside their apartment building in the snow, having had an argument with her father and been thrown out of their small rooms with no supper. He had offered her a place on his settee for the night, and a part of his meal, but she had turned him down without a second thought. She had been adamant that she would not accept any help from even her closest friend, as she was in the mind-set that doing so would be a sign of weakness. Neither Éponine, nor Marielle, had ever wished to be dependent on anyone.

"Well, given that you are unwilling to submit to my opinions, why don't you come along with me?" the man suggested, elaborating quickly when he discovered the confused expression on the face of his young goddaughter. "At least in that case, I will be able to keep an eye on you."

For a moment, Marielle remained deep in thought, a pondering look on her face, but when that moment was up, she nodded slightly, not quite as a free agreement, but more as an acquiesce to her adoptive father's wishes.

They had been walking for near a dozen minutes when the pair finally reached their destination, a quiet park in the centre of the city, a haven of rural culture in the midst of the urban ways of Paris.

Marius led his adoptive daughter through the weaving flowerbeds, dizzying her as if she was wandering through a maze. The man remained silent throughout, as if he was harbouring some sort of secret and he was leading her to it. '_He may well be keeping something to himself.' _Marielle thought, glancing up at the face of her Papa Marius, and the intense look of concentration as he guided them through the hedges around the far end of the park. '_After all, Papa Marius has never been the most open man in the world, though he tries to be. It just isn't who he is.'_

However, even as she was proven correct, the young brunette's thoughts were silenced as they reached the place the man had been leading her to. It was truly beautiful, a garden filled with a plethora of flowers, all arranged around a stone carving, the small stones arranged around it reading just as many names as there were flowers, perhaps even precisely the same amount.

Though she vaguely noticed these things, Marielle paid little attention. In truth, as Marius suddenly noticed, she only saw the name engraved on one of the satellite stones towards the very top of the tribute. It was the name of a person who she had never met, but who meant so much to her all the same.

_Éponine Adrienne Jondrette,  
The first to fall._

A/N: I will continue straight away from here again next chapter, and I hope you'll have the next two updates quicker, because I know what they will be about. Please review, and you'll get them faster!


	6. A Tribute to Memories

Chapter Six

A/N: Thank you to MissFiyerabaMeponine, IceQueenForLife and Eponine Jondrette for reviewing and helping me to write.

Marielle's breath hitched in her throat as she read the engraving once again. She had been told a hundred stories, perhaps even more, about her mother in her lifetime, but to see such a direct link to the woman was astounding, even overwhelming for the ten year old.

For years, when she had been but a tiny child, the girl had pretended that her mother had not died, that she would one day return to Paris on the back of a silver steed, and whisk her away to a cottage by the seaside, where they would live out the rest of their days in peace and quiet. To see it written, in script and stone, that that would never happen, the brunette could not help but wish for a moment that she had never laid eyes on the tribute.

Her curiosity taking over her desire to run away, the brunette raised her head, reading the engraving for the third time, but this time taking the opportunity to read it fully, and to absorb the information it gave to her, some of which she had not even noticed before.

_Éponine Adrienne Jondrette  
31st August 1814 - 5th June 1832  
The first to fall, at the barricade, while trying to save the man she loved.  
'Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.'_

"She lived by that rule, you know." Marius told his adoptive daughter, seeing the tears forming in her eyes and seeing that he must do something about it. "Even after all that had happened to her, after all she had been through, your mother was always certain that one day, things would get better for her."

"But they never did." she responded, her voice heavy with sadness, but small as well, as if being crushed with a sense of defeat. At the questioning look on her guardian's face, she continued. "She died when she was only seventeen. There wasn't any time for things to get better for her, because she died so young. She died believing that a better world would come, and it didn't."

"How can you be so sure, Marie?" he asked, pausing for a moment, as he watched the young girl's brow furrow, the confusion she felt evident in her expression. "I know for certain that Éponine had a great deal of happiness before she died, more joy than she would have ever expected in her wildest dreams, after living on the streets of Paris, picking pockets so that she could have a bite to eat. And do you know, _ma bien-aimée_, what that happiness was? What had given her such a reason to try to survive?"

"No." the child replied, her voice a mere whisper, even quieter than it had been before. Silence fell for another few seconds, in which Marius seemed to distance himself, becoming a little lost to her as he read the engraving himself, attempting to force the tears from his eyes. Over the years, he had cried so many tears for 'Ponine and the men she had died alongside, and he refused to cry for them anymore. He had more important things in the present to do, rather than mourning the past.

"On the first day of June, five days before she died, she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl." he told the child, who gasped at the revelation as tears slipped down her face, as if his words had broken the dam and the water from her eyes spilled over like a waterfall. "She loved that babe more than anything else she had ever loved in the world. She would have done anything to keep her alive, would hardly even have hesitated in dying herself for her, and when she did die, she left a letter, entrusting the child's care to the man she had died for. She loved you, Marielle, and she always will."

After a good few minutes, having fallen into the man's embrace very soon into that time, the pair moved away from the tribute for a while, having returned to the streets to purchase a small posy of flowers from a street seller. On the way, Marius had told the story of Éponine's time as a flower seller, which had lasted only a fortnight at most, but had been an extremely important time for both her and the young man who had bought all of her flowers when they had wilted in the rain, after he had found her sobbing on a flight of steps, whimpering about the fact that her father would kill her for returning home with freesias instead of francs. He had bought the flowers for a higher price than she had sold them for before, and the pair had remained friends for the extent of her life.

When they returned to the tribute, it was evident that someone else had visited in their absence, as a small tealight candle rested on the small ledge beneath Éponine's name, and they could not have been long gone, as the flame was still lit. The identity of the mystery visitor remained just that for Marielle, but not for her adoptive father, who was almost certain that he knew who had left it, and was not surprised by the fact that the woman had visited, though he was by the fact that she had left something for the girl, as she did not tend to have money to spare. Marius had known her husband to take the majority of it from her reach before it even came into her eyesight, so that he could keep it for himself.

Taking no more notice of the fact, Marielle moved the candle to the side for a minute or two, before replacing it after that time, in front of a small posy of freesias, one which they had bought from a seller not unlike what her mother had been in her childhood.

Until the sky had darkened, the dark haired couple stood before the tribute, Marielle thinking on the stories she had heard so long ago of the mother she had never really known, and Marius of the friends who had fallen for the freedom of the dawn, and his best friend, who had fallen for him.

_Do you hear the people sing, lost in the valley of the night?  
It is the music of a people who are climbing to the light,  
For the wretched of the earth, there is a flame that never dies,  
Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise._

A/N: A little bit sad, but still. I felt that quote summed up Éponine pretty well, always hoping that one day things would get better. Please review and tell me what you think!


	7. The Worries of Parenthood

Chapter Seven

A/N: Thank you to MissFiyerabaMeponine and IceQueenForLife for reviewing the last chapter.

That night, they returned to their home at Rue Plumet in silence, hand clasped tightly in hand as they fought the tears which were threatening to spill over both of their eyes. They had stayed at the tribute until long after dark, before Marius had made the decision that they should leave, as it was far too late for them to be out in the streets of Paris in any case, and Cosette would be worrying about them no end if they did not come home soon. After all, there would not be so many police on the streets if they were safe to roam at night.

When they reached the gates, the silence was broken, if only by the slight creak of the gate as they passed through it. It was the first sound that either of them had heard since the cries in the garden had ceased, and it made Marielle jump a little as she heard it, her heart rate increasing for the moment before she felt her adoptive father's hand settle on her shoulder, calming her, as he always seemed able to do.

They remained in their state on quietness until the door was thrown open, light cascading into the darkness as Cosette sprinted from the house in her dressing gown, throwing her arms first around her husband and then around the young girl, her distress made clear to the both of them.

"Oh, my darlings, you had me so worried!" she exclaimed, her voice as transparent as the crystal in her wedding ring, when it came to the content of hysteria, in any case. "Where have you been for so long, walking along the streets of Paris in the dead of night? You should have been home from work hours ago, Marius, and as for you, Marie, how could you run away from me like that? I've been worried sick for the pair of you."

For a moment or two, the pair were stunned by the speech of the woman, which clearly showed the amount of care she had for them, both as a wife and a mother figure respectively. It made Marielle, at least, feel dreadfully guilty for staying out to such an hour, and for running away in the first place. True, Cosette was not her mother, as she had stood at the graveside of her mother for all those hours, but the woman had always tried her best to be good to her. It could not have been easy to bring up the child of the woman who had been in love with the man she married, but she did so nonetheless, and loved her as if she were her own. That was more than the child could ever have asked for, particularly as the bastard orphan of a street rat, the lowest of the low in the opinions of the _bourgeoisie_, the only opinions that really mattered in Paris, or in the world at all, it seemed.

"I'm sorry, Cosette, truly I am." Marius told his wife, being the one who had summoned the words to speak first. "I was on my way to the park, as I always go, when I found Marielle. She'd wanted to see me, but instead of taking her home, I took her to the park along with me. We spent a great deal of time there, for a reason that you can probably imagine, having been there yourself, and I did not notice the night coming until it was dark. It was my fault, I would not permit her to return to you on her own. For that, I am sorry."

"It's alright, Marius." the woman conceded, not a few moments after his explanation had been completed. Her features had visibly softened now, and been replaced with a tender smile, as opposed to an expression of anger and worry. "I do not blame you for wanting to show Marielle more about her mother, and I do not blame her for becoming a little upset either, of course I do not. I was worried about you both, that much is for certain, but I do not blame either of you. Sometimes I worry too much for my own good."

"You merely care, Cosette, and that is what I love about you." the man responded to his wife, pulling her towards him and planting a tender kiss on her lips, while the brunette watched on in a daze, as if she had stepped right into a fairytale, though her mind was still fixed on the mine of information that Marius had proved to be, in regards to her mother, at least.

"It really is perfect, this family, isn't it?" the child finally questioned, a wide smile on her face as husband and wife pulled apart a little, leaving room for them to wrap an arm each about her shoulders. "I have you, _Belle-Mère_ Cosette, the closest thing to a mother that I have ever had, and as good of one as I could ever have wished for. And I have you, Papa Marius, the only papa that I have ever known, or will know. I could not have wished for anything better than I have now, even if Mama had lived."

Immediately, Marius wrapped his arms more tightly around the child. He had known that taking her to see the grave of her mother may have been a mistake, but it was a risk that he had been willing to take, if it would give her a little closure, to know more about the woman who had given her birth. It was, after all, her right to be able to know, and he was not about to take this chance away from her. In truth, though he remembered with each passing day that the child was Éponine's, and Éponine's alone, he had come to see Marielle as his own darling daughter, as he knew that Cosette had done.

That was all about to change, with a rap at the door.

A/N: Who is at the door? Review, and tell me who you think has come to visit!


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